Prank War
by tealpaperclip27
Summary: Dean's 15 and Sam's 11 when Dean starts an epic prank war. And we all know what happens with this pranking stuff. It just escalates.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: About a million years ago, mandancie asked me if I would write the prank war. I've been trying to write it for while and I think I finally have something worth sharing. I hope you like it. I have a few chapters written out, this one won't be a long one, but I'm also working on a short story writing class. So I'll do my best to post a new piece every week, but school work comes first._

* * *

It started out harmless, regular things that stir crazy teenage brothers do to each other. Sam had just turned eleven, starting to fight back when Dean pushed at him a little too hard and Dean was enjoying every moment of it. It wasn't fun when Sam would just cry and run to Dad. Dean considered his "torturing" - as Sam called it- as character development. He couldn't let his kid brother grow up with his nose in a book and never learn anything about how it was in the real world. Hunters were action people, not book people. He was teaching his brother to stay on his toes; or at least that's what he would tell his dad if Sam started crying.

"Want some orange juice?" Dean asked one morning before school passing Sam a cup, along with his regular bowl of Lucky Charms.

"I didn't know we had orange juice," Sam smiled excitedly. "I'd love some thanks!"

"No problem," Dean smirked, doing his best not to let on that anything was amiss. "I know how much you like being healthy or whatever. I grabbed some on the way home yesterday."

"Awesome," Sam smiled taking a sip, then immediately spitting it all over the kitchen. "What the hell, Dean!?" He rushed to the sink, turning on the tap and sticking his head under to try to wash the taste of whatever that was out of his mouth.

Dean was bent in half laughing. "Priceless." He said between heaves. "You had no idea!"

"What the heck is that?"

Dean started to control his breathing enough to pull out an opened box of Mac and Cheese from the nearly bare cabinets of the trailer they were staying in. "Mixed it with water."

"You're disgusting," Sam whined.

"I'm hilarious," Dean corrected.

"You're cleaning up the kitchen before you leave for school," John said from behind them as he entered the kitchen. "What the hell were the two of you doing? Why is there juice everywhere?"

Dean started laughing again, too hard to explain his genius.

"Dean's a jerk," Sam explained.

"Yeah," John shrugged shaking his head as he walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. "That's not an answer."

"Dean put mac and cheese cheese in a cup and told me it was orange juice and made me drink it."

"I didn't make you," Dean said wiping a tear that had escaped his eye. "You drank it willingly. It's not funny if I make you do it."

"Clean up the mess, Dean," John sighed turning to leave the room. "Stop being an asshole to your brother."

"But it's _so_ easy," Dean laughed.

"So is watching you doing push ups," John called. "Stop picking on your brother or that's how I'll be spending my day."

"Yes, sir," Dean mumbled as he grabbed the dish towel off the side of the sink and started to wipe down Sam's cheese spit from the kitchen's surfaces.

* * *

Sam got home from school about twenty minutes before Dean everyday. He usually took that time to get as much homework done as he could before their dad started making them run PT drills or research whatever stupid monster he was hunting. But on this particular day, Sam had better idea about how to use his short amount of free time.

Dean always ate Oreo cookies-or the store brand equivalent- when he got home from school. While Sam requested vegetables and regular food on grocery trips, Dean always made sure there were chocolate and cream filled cookies waiting for him. Sam figured the best way to get Dean back for the orange juice that morning was to mess with his cookies. So he took the package out of the cabinet, ran to the bathroom to get the toothpaste and set to work. He only did it to three cookies, there was no point in ruining a whole pack, and their dad would skin him if he knew Sam was wasting expensive food. He removed the cream from the middle and very carefully, so Dean would never notice that anything was off, replaced it with toothpaste. Sam smiled to himself as he put the package back and rushed to get his books out so he could pretend to be doing his homework.

"What's up Short Stack?" Dean asked as he walked through the door, ruffling Sam's hair.

"Long division," Sam sighed looking up from his math book to watch Dean eat his cookies, trying his hardest not to crack a smile.

"I'm actually kind of good at that if you want help," Dean offered.

"No I got it," Sam replied. "I can work it out. It's just kind of hard."

"Alright, let me know if you change your mind."

Dean grabbed the cookie package out of the cabinet and pushed himself up onto the counter. Sam let a small smirk spread across his face as Dean grabbed four cookies, stacking them up next to him. The first one appeared to be normal, but the second one was definitely a toothpaste one.

"There's something wrong with these cookies," Dean said spitting it out as Sam erupted into giggles. Dean hopped off the countered and tried his best to the flavor out of his mouth with faucet.

"What did you do?" Dean said, seriously.

"Toothpaste," Sam smiled. "Payback for the cheese you made me drink."

"Well played," Dean nodded. "I'm proud of you little brother."

"You're not supposed to be proud of me," Sam sighed.

"I proud that you fought back," Dean smirked. "Did you do it to all of them?"

"No," Sam sighed pushing his chair back as he stood up. "Only three of them."

"Good work," Dean said pulling Sam into a headlock when he got close enough. "My evil genius is rubbing off on you."

"That's not what…Let me go jerk," Sam sighed deeply.

Dean did, smiling.

"I was trying to get you good," Sam shrugged

"You did," Dean smirked. "For your first prank, 10 out of 10."

"Don't patronize me," Sam said rolling his eyes.

"No seriously," Dean repeated. "I wasn't expecting it, and those were incredibly gross. But I wouldn't take your thinking cap off just yet, little brother, cuz this is war."

An almost scary looked crossed Dean's eyes before he left the room laughing. "Stay on your toes Sammy, you'll never know when the next one is coming."

Later that night, while the boys hung out in their room- Sam getting work done on a big project he had for his history class, and Dean reading the latest issue of _Car and Driver_ that he pilfered from a gas station up the road- they listened as their father came home. John took his boots off, leaving them by the door with a loud thump, then headed to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

"Hey," Dean said dropping his magazine to his chest. "Did you take the rest of the toothpaste cookies out of the container?"

Sam looked up from his shoebox diorama of Custer's Last Stand with wide eyes as John's deep booming voice answered that question for them.

"Boys!" John yelled. "Get in here now."

"Son of a bitch" Dean said jumping up. "Follow my lead, I got this."

"Dean," Sam whined following Dean to the door. "I can take care of myself."

Dean turned to Sam and looked him dead in the eye. "Listen, I got this."

"Fine," Sam sighed falling in line as the two of them left the room and headed to the kitchen.

They stood at attention next to the kitchen table where their father sat waiting to be spoken to.

"Which one of you two idiots put toothpaste in the Oreos?" John demanded.

Both boys stared at their shoes, neither saying anything.

"You both go deaf while I was gone?" John said a little bit louder. "Which one of you decided it was good to put toothpaste in the cookies?"

"I did," Dean mumbled looking up. "It was my idea. I was messing with Sammy."

"Right," John nodded. "I'm sure. Why don't you both start doing push ups until I tell you to stop."

"But Sam didn't do anything!" Dean said quickly, subconsciously stepping in front of Sam as he talked.

"First of all, don't talk back to me," John said standing up. "Second of all, don't look at me and lie to my face, because we both know you didn't do this. Sam hasn't eaten a freakin' cookie since he was baby. Oreo's are your thing. I know Sam's starting to fight back when you think you're getting the best of him. I'm not stupid, Dean now both of you go do what I said."

"Yes, sir," the boys said in unison as they turned.

"You boys need to stop messing around with food," John said following them into the living room. "It's _not _okay. You're both old enough to know better."

"You didn't have to do that," Sam whispered as they got into position.

"Yeah, I did," Dean said smirking over at him. "That's what older brothers are supposed to do. Now lets get this over with please."

"Less talking more pushing," John scolded.

"How many do you want?" Dean asked.

"Go til I say stop," John replied. "Not a hard task. You're going until you get it through your heads not to mess around with food. I get it, you're teenage boys, you're going to mess around with each other. Just be smarter about it."

"Yes sir," the boys grunted as they worked.

John put his feet up in the coffee table and turned on the TV while eating as sandwich. When he was half way through his sandwich, he looked over to his sons. "You boys learn anything yet?"

"Yes, sir," Sam panted. "I won't do anything like that again."

"Good boy," John nodded. "Ten more. What about you Dean?"

"I learned my lesson, sir," Dean mumbled.

"Right then," John replied. "Finish up. You boys done your homework?"

"Yeah," Sam answered as he lay on the floor arms exhausted. "Everything that's due tomorrow. I was working on a project but it's not due til next week."

"Good, go to bed," John instructed.

"It's not even nine o'clock," Dean whined.

"I don't really care," John replied. "I'm pretty sure I told you to do something. When I give and order you follow it. Now go to bed. If I see the light on in there I'll come take it away. And don't think I can't hear you two talking through the wall. Go to bed."

"Fine," Dean said rolling his eyes. He followed Sam into their room and quickly changed into their sleep clothes and turned off the light.

"So no more prank stuff, I guess," Sam said pulling his bed covers back. "Dad seemed pretty pissed."

"Ya think?" Dean chuckled. "Yeah I guess we'll call a truce for now, but I'm gonna get you back. The moment you stop looking for it, I'm gonna pounce."

"Yeah right," Sam giggled back.

"Go to bed!" John yelled from the other room. "I wasn't kidding."

"Yes sir," Dean replied back. "Night Sammy."

"Good night, Dean."

* * *

_AN: The pranks escalate from here. I'm starting out small. Also, if you have an idea for a good prank, I would love to here them. _


	2. Chapter 2

After school got out for the summer, John backed up his boys and followed the monsters. Without Sam nagging to stay in one place long enough to do well in school, John would stay on the road all the time, half the time he did anyway, Dean was old enough now to take care of Sam by himself. The first week of July, the boys were staying at a campsite in Georgia for a few days while John took care of something that he told them was "too dangerous for little boys." They'd been there for almost a week, and it wasn't like they had cabin fever, they barely had a tent, but Sam was starting to get on every last nerve Dean had. Dean remembered being eleven, it wasn't as horrible for him as it seemed to be with Sam. Maybe because Dean had long since accepted that their life wasn't going to change no matter how much he complained or dragged his feet. Sam though, there was only one other person in the world as stubborn and pigheaded as he was; and that man was the one that dropped them off in this middle of no where campsite to start with. Sam was going to fight until he got his way, which for the Winchesters, meant Sam was never going to stop fighting.

Dean sat against a tree whittling down a stick to a sharp point while Sam wandered around the campsite complaining.

"It's too hot," Sam whined.

"It's July," Dean replied rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, well, Dad didn't have to bring us to the south where it's hot," Sam complained. "I'm sure there are monsters in Minnesota or Maine or something."

"It's hot there too," Dean sighed.

Sam slid down the side of the tree next to Dean. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making a spear to stab you with," Dean answered seriously.

"You don't have to be a jerk about everything," Sam said hitting his head against the tree.

"Why don't you go swimming in the lake if you're hot," Dean suggested. "Go be annoying somewhere else."

"Fine" Sam huffed pushing himself off the ground. "I will."

"Be back at six," Dean called after him. "Dad'll be back by six thirty. He wants us packed and ready to go when he pulls up."

"Yeah, whatever," Sam sighed, rolling his eyes as he followed the path down to the lake.

Dean enjoyed the peacefulness of being alone for the first time since they'd been at the campsite. His brother complained about not being given enough freedom, but the moment the kid got any, he was up Dean's ass like it was his job. He sharpened his spear for a few more minutes before he got a wonderful idea.

Dean packed up the tent and duffle bags and brought them to the road, which couldn't be seen from where they would camped out. He cleaned up everything as if they had left, then sat next to a tree where he could watch Sam freak when he got back.

* * *

Sam floated in the cool lake for quite a while, trying to relax. He wanted a normal life so badly. He wanted to have a house and go to the same school for a whole year and have friends and get a dog and be normal. He didn't think it was too much to ask. He didn't want to be a part of this life. He just wanted everything that everyone else had. He floated around until he'd calmed down and cooled off enough to know he wouldn't yell at his dad when he decided to show up. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he knew he wasn't even close to six. He had plenty of time to help Dean pack up and get ready for their dad to show up.

He climbed up the hill from the lake and saw nothing.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, looking around. "Not funny!"

Sam wandered around where the thought the campsite was, he found clues that he was in the right place - a candy wrapper, a soda can, boot prints- but no sign of Dean.

"You can't just leave me here!" Sam yelled into the emptiness. "Dean!"

Sam looked around, suddenly terrified that he'd been left behind. Being forgotten was his biggest fear. He'd always been afraid that when his dad packed up and moved out, he'd forget Sam; leave him sleeping in a bed or in the backyard. And here he was, left in the woods of Georgia, completely forgotten.

"Dean!" Sam screamed again, hoping that this brother and father weren't too far away. As the panic really started to set in, he hear giggling. His stupid older brother giggling.

"Oh man," Dean laughed as he climbed over the slight rise he'd been hiding behind. "You should have seen your face."

"You suck," Sam yelled. "You're a dick."

"Calm down," Dean smirked.

"No Dean," Sam yelled. "It's not funny. I thought you guys left without me!"

"We're not going to freakin' forget you," Dean said rolling his eyes. "And even if we did, we'd notice really quick when there wasn't someone whining in the backseat."

"You're not funny," Sam huffed walking off in the direction Dean had emerged from.

"I'm hilarious," Dean corrected. "You're too much of a baby to get it."

A car horn honked at the road.

"Looks like Dad is early for once," Dean smiled. "Good thing I packed up our crap huh?"

"You're still an asshole," Sam replied. "That wasn't funny."

"Calm down, Princess," Dean sighed rolling his eyes. "Help me get the stuff in the car."

"Let's go boys," John yelled from the car as they approached. "We gotta get out of town."

"Coming!" Dean called as he hooked his arm around Sam's neck to try to get him to move faster. "Learn to take a joke Sammy, or it's gonna be a long life for you."

"It wasn't funny, Dean!" Sam yelled.

"Stop fighting or ten seconds and load the car," John said quickly. "I'm not messing round we gotta blow."

The boys shut up and finished loading the car before jumping inside, Dean riding shotgun, Sammy in the back seat. They rode in silence for several miles, until they crossed the county line and John visibly relaxed.

"So what are you two fighting about now?" John asked looking at Sam in the rear view.

"Nothing," Dean said shaking his head. "Sam can't take a joke."

"It's wasn't a joke Dean!" Sam said punching the back of Dean's seat. "He packed up all the stuff while I was swimming and made me think that you came and got him and left me there."

Dean start to chuckle, clearly proud of himself.

"That i_was/i _sort of mean, Deano," John sighed.

"More funny," Dean replied.

"One of these days, Sam's going to get you back good," John said seriously. "And you're going to be pissed, and I'm going to laugh at you, just like you're laughing at him."

"Sam doesn't have the balls," Dean said placing his foot up on the dashboard.

John smacked Dean's leg. "Respect the car, Dean."

"Sorry, sir." Dean mumbled. "But he's just a kid i _and_/i he's, like, super serious and boring all the time."

"You forget you're related," John shrugged. "Everything you got, Sammy's got to. Don't forget it. I'm sure he can be just as sadistic and obnoxious as you can be."

"I'd like to see him try," Dean smiled.

"Just wait," Sam piped up from the back seat. "I'm gonna do something ten times worse to you."

"Sure, Sammy," Dean said rolling his eyes. "Keep dreaming, bitch."


	3. Chapter 3

The Winchesters ended up in small rented house in a suburb in Nebraska for most of July. John stayed around for a little while, waiting for help on a lead on something he wouldn't share with the boys from Bobby. Sam loved it there. In their neighborhood there were a bunch of kids around his age that accepted him right into their group of friends. He got to play street hockey and soccer, the occasional kickball or baseball game. He almost felt normal for the first time in a long time. Sam wandered home when the street lights turned on, like he always did, and flopped exhaustedly onto the sofa next to his dad who was watch a Royals game on television.

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked.

"Thought he was with you," John shrugged.

"No," Sam sighed. "He said he was too old to be doing kid things anymore. He thinks that since he's going to be in high school next year that he's too cool to hang out with me."

"If I know anything about your brother," John replied placing an arm over Sam's shoulder. "It's that he knows he's not 'too cool' to hang out with you. He's probably just showing off to some older boys."

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "Every time he makes one friend he just leaves me behind."

"But you got friends here right?" John asked. "I'm sure you don't get that sweaty everyday hanging out by yourself."

"No, I got some friends here," Sam said. "We were playing kickball today. I asked Dean if he wanted to play with us and he told me he was too big for baby games and went off toward the lake with the older kids."

"He's fifteen," John shrugged. "Someday you'll think Dean's a loser and not want to hang out with him either."

Sam laughed. "I think he's a loser now, but I still want to hang out with him."

John chuckled and turned back to the game. The two sat in silence for the next half inning, until it cut back to commercial.

"I think it's time to get Dean back for making me think you guys left without me," Sam announced. "But I don't have any ideas."

"You could take the high road and stop the pranking nonsense before someone gets hurt," John suggested.

"I can't let Dean win," Sam replied. "He'll never shut up about it."

"You gotta point there," John shrugged.

"Do you have any ideas?" Sam asked looking up at his dad.

"I'm not getting involved," John replied. "That's all the two of you. But remember, whatever you do, he's going to do it back bigger and more obnoxious. So be careful."

"What if I… what if I…" Sam said thinking out loud. "What if I put, like, Orajel on his toothbrush so he mouth went numb?"

John let out a loud laugh. "That's a good one kiddo, sounds like the stuff we used to do in the service."

"So you think it's a good?" Sam said wided eyed. "I can do it?"

"I'll pick you up some Orajel next time I head into town," John smiled. "I think when Dean stops freaking out, he'll think it's funny."

"Good," Sam nodded. "I want him to be really freaked out. I was so scared in the woods. I mean, it was only, like, two minutes, but I really thought you guys left without me."

"There's a line with pranking," John said seriously. "There needs to be anyway, between funny and being a dick. Your brother walks that line very closely. If you were a little older, that would have been better. I think he forgets that you're just a kid sometimes. I guess that's sorta easy with the life, you know. You can do a lot more than a regular eleven year old, and you're more mature - way more mature that your brother was- but you're still eleven."

"Okay," Sam shrugged. "I'm not going to do anything too mean."

"I also want you to remember that Dean's going to get you back," John said. "He just is. And he'll do something you're not expecting and Dean's goal will be to make you cry."

"But if he does, you'll punish him right?" Sam asked.

"Of course," John smiled pulling Sam close. "Just don't fake it."

"I'm not that good of an actor," Sam replied.

John pulled his arm back over Sam's shoulder and pressed them against his knees as he stood up. "I'm gonna go grab some Chinese, you want the regular?"

Sam nodded. "That'll be good."

"If Dean comes home before I get back, let him know?"

"Yeah no problem," Sam replied.

"I'll stop by CVS on the way," John smirked ruffling Sam's hair as he started to walk away.

"Thanks Dad," Sam called after him, as he took the tv remote and started to flip through the channels.

* * *

It was raining two days later, which meant no sports with the neighborhood kids for Sammy. The boys were cooped up inside for a while, so Dean decided it would be best to torture and wrestle his brother all day.

"Stop, Dean, you're hurting me!" Sam whined as Dean had him pinned down to the floor.

"We gotta toughen you up somehow," Dean replied not letting up. "You're a weakling."

"You're a jerk," Sam spat. "Let me up."

"Fight your way up," Dean said seriously. "I know you can."

"You're twice my size, Dean, get off!"

"Push me off," Dean replied. "If something gets you out there you're not going to be able to whine at it until it goes away. It'll eat you."

"Nothing's going to eat me!" Sam said squirming as much as he could. "I'm not going to be a stupid hunter."

"Family business, kiddo," Dean said smirking down at him. "You don't gotta choice. Now fight."

Sam squirmed until he got one of his legs free, then started to kick his brother. He wiggled a hand free and shoved it into Dean's face and pushed until Dean was finally off of him.

"Leave me alone!" Sam said standing up. "Just let me read my book."

"You're such a nerd," Dean said shaking his head. "It's lame, Sammy."

"My name is Sam," he spat back. "And I just want you to stop picking on me all the time."

"Sorry, Princess," Dean said rolling his eyes. "You've spent all this week trying to get me to hang out with you, then when I do you bitch about it."

"I don't want you to tackle me, Dean," Sam explained. "I want to, like, I don't know, play checkers or cards or something. Normal people things."

"Normal people are boring," Dean spat back.

"I like boring," Sam huffed. "Just stop being mean to me for two minutes."

"I'm not being mean to you," Dean sighed. "Jesus Christ."

"Whatever," Sam huffed. He headed toward the bathroom, the only room where he could get some privacy, and slammed the door. He was going to save his Orajel prank until he was sure that Dean thought he'd won the war, but after his day of rolling around on the floor until he wanted to cry, he felt that it was time.

Dean was becoming obnoxiously into his looks. Their dad tried to explain it to Sam, but gave up after a few aborted sentences and said he'd understand when he was older. Dean tried to play it off like he wasn't, that he didn't care what he looked like, but the hair gel he kept in his duffle bag and his insistence on having his own tube of toothpaste because their dad preferred the gel types and that one was apparently not ideal for treating the acne that Dean definitely didn't have, said otherwise.

Sam took the Orajel his dad had bought from the first aid kit and shoved the tip into Dean's special toothpaste. He hoped that it wasn't too obvious since the gel was kind of clear, and Dean's toothpaste was very white and paste like, but he figured Dean didn't inspect his toothpaste while he before brushing his teeth.

"Take this you stupid jerkface," Sam smiled proud of himself as he twisted the cap back onto Dean's toothpaste and put it back where it was. He flushed the toilet so Dean wouldn't suspect anything and made his way back into the main room.

Dean was waiting just outside the door to pounce on him bringing him back down to the ground.

"I hate you," Sam huffed.

"You love me," Dean smirked letting Sam back up. "You wanna play poker? We got pretzels and pistachios."

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "As long as you don't cheat."

"I'm just better than you," Dean smiled. "I'm giving you a school of hard knocks education."

"You're an idiot," Sam sighed falling into line behind his brother as they walked to the kitchen. He smiled to himself knowing that in just a few hours he'd have his revenge.

* * *

John stumbled into the apartment after Dean had scraped together some dinner for himself and his brother. Staying on one place for too long had the exact opposite effect on John than it did on Sammy. He got restless, and when he had no place to go, he tended to drink more than he usually did. But after eleven years of their father's erratic behavior the boys had, sadly, gotten used to it. At least this time this time he wasn't too intoxicated, he could still walk and form coherent sentences, he just smelled like stale cigarette smoke and beer. Dean shot Sam a look of warning, trying to tell him not to start anything, not tonight. It was a fight they could have some other night.

"I think I'm just going to go to bed," Sam sighed as he rolled his eyes.

"What did you boys have for dinner?" John said standing between Sam and the bedroom door.

"Dean put together a meatloaf with the leftover hamburger," Sam answered. "It was actually really good. There's some left in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Toss a place in the microwave and bring it over," John slurred as he made his way to the sofa. "Sounds good."

"Yes, sir," Sam nodded.

"Why don't we hang out, watch a movie?" John asked. "It's not like you got homework or nothing."

Sam rolled his eyes, starting at Dean.

"Just hang out Sammy," Dean whispered "It'll be fine."

"Yeah," Sam sighed, pulling the plate out of the microwave. "Whatever."

Sam sat down in the beat up chair next to the sofa, after passing the plate off to his dad, and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"You got anything you wanna see, Sammy?" John asked. "I know the two of you have some kind of Blockbuster membership thing."

"Umm…" Sam mumbled looking over at his brother. "I don't really think you'd like the movie that I picked out. It's kinda a kid movie."

"Have you watched it yet?" John asked.

"No," Sam answered.

"Is it a cartoon?" John asked.

"No," Sam said shaking his head. "It's about this hockey team in Texas. I've wanted to see if for a while."

"Sounds nice, go get it," John instructed.

Sam looked to Dean, who nodded as he sat down next to his dad on the couch. Sam climbed out of the chair and walked into his room. He retrieved the VHS from his duffel bag and popped it open as he walked back into the living room. Dean had already set up the TV, so all Sam had to do was drop it into the VCR and press play.

"From what I understand," Sam said talking faster than he usually did as he sat back down in the chair. "It's a pretty good movie. The other kids I hang out with were talking about it. I guess there's a sequel that's out now or something. I wanted to see what it was about. That's why I rented it."

"It's cool, Sam," Dean chuckled. "Breathe out your nose and watch the movie."

* * *

The movie was actually really cool, Sam loved it. Dean tried his best to look like he didn't like it, but Sam could tell he did.

"Not bad," John nodded when it was over. "Nothing wrong with an underdog movie. But I do think it's time to turn it in for the night."

"Yeah," Dean yawned stretching. He stood up and walked toward the bathroom.

As the bathroom door closed, Sam remembered what he'd done earlier. His eyes shot to John and back to the bathroom door. After a very tense couple of minutes, Dean finally reacted to his mouth numbing toothpaste.

"Daaa!" came a scream from the bathroom the door swung open and Dean stood there in his underwear, small dots of drying toothpaste of his face, foam around his mouth. "Da! Somfink's wron."

Sam started to giggle. He couldn't help it, he felt slightly guilty since he wasn't mad at Dean anymore, but seeing Dean with toothpaste dripping out of his mouth was hilarious.

"Wha's wron wit me?" Dean asked eyes wide.

"Payback jerkface," Sam giggled.

John looked between his boys, slowly realizing what what happening.

"Wha did you do?' Dean mumbled trying to wipe the toothpaste from his face but he kept drooling. "Poison?"

"Don't be melodramatic, Dean," John sighed. "It'll wear off in about twenty minutes. It's Orajel. It numbs your mouth"

"You knew bout this!?" Dean did his best to demand but between the drooling and the mumbling, it was hard to take him seriously.

"I got you back for being a jerk all day," Sam answered. "And for making me think you left me in the woods."

"By tryin ta kill me?" Dean asked wiping drool from his face. "Tis no funny Sam."

"It's actually pretty funny," John argued. "You with those toothpaste dots on your face, drooling everywhere."

Dean turned a deep shade of red and turned back into the bathroom slamming the door hard behind him.

"Slam another door and I'll break your fingers," John called after him. "If you can't take a joke, don't pull 'em on your brother." John looked over at Sam and smirked.

"I kinda feel bad about doing it," Sam whispered. "I was really mad before you got home, and now I'm not as mad and I was trying to save it."

"Well," John said pushing himself up. "He wasn't expecting it. And if you want to sleep in my room so you don't get smoothed in your sleep, I'll take the couch."

"He's gonna do something horrible to me," Sam sighed.

"Probably," John said stretching. "You knew that walking in."

Sam squirmed in his chair a little, John walked over and ruffled Sam's hair.

"That was really funny, kiddo," John insured him. "Really, Sam. I don't think that could have worked out better. If Dean did that to you, I'd ground him for about a month."

Sam looked up at his dad and smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah," John smirked. "Do want to sleep in my room? We don't need Dean trying to kill you in your sleep."

"No," Sam said shaking his head. "He won't smother me with a pillow right away. He'll wait a couple days first."

"Alright," John nodded ruffling Sam's hair again. "I'll see you in the morning Sammy."

John walked across the living room to his bedroom, when the door closed the door to the bathroom reopened. Dean stood in the doorway, nostrils flared, face clean, eyes shooting daggers at his brother.

"You're just mad because you didn't think of it first," Sam rolled his eyes.

"I ca't even talk righ," Dean mumbled.

"Like Dad said it'll wear off," Sam shrugged as he stood up. "And it'll keep you quiet for a little bit."

"I'm gonna ge you so goo," Dean said shaking his head. "Wo't even know wha hit ya."

"I'm sure," Sam said turning and walking away. "I'm going to bed. Enjoy your numb mouth."

"You're a bitch," Dean growled the best he could.

"But I won this round, jerk."


	4. Chapter 4

_I would like to thank everyone for their comments and suggestions. You may find a lot of what you suggested in this chapter. I greatly appreciate the feedback and suggestions!_

* * *

It only took a few days for Dean to get Sam back: the old sticking your hand in warm water while you're sleeping until you pee the bed trick. Sam was so embarrassed he couldn't even explain to his dad why they needed to go the laundry mat. Dean stood in the doorway to their bedroom giggling as Sam tried to stutter out what happened.

"I just…" Sam mumbled. "I just think it's time that we do laundry. Dean's clothes really smell."

"Are you sure it's not your stuff, Sammy?" Dean laughed.

John looked between his boys.

"Please, Dad," Sam begged. "You can just drop me off at the laundromat. I have a roll of quarters, you don't even have to give me any money. I'll be safe. I won't get kidnapped."

"You might need a babysitter, though," Dean laughed.

"Is everything alright, Sam?" John asked.

"Yeah, I just _really_ want to do my laundry," Sam answered. "And maybe some of Dean's clothes."

"And you're sheets?" Dean snickered.

"Seriously, Dean?" John sighed, finally understanding what Sam was trying to tell him.

"Funny's funny," Dean shrugged.

"Mean," Sam squeaked.

"You made my face numb," Dean shot back. "You really think I wasn't going to do anything to you?"

"Maybe if you didn't rub toothpaste all over your face, your whole face wouldn't be numb," Sam shouted. "Who puts toothpaste all over their face? Weirdos that's who."

"You don't know anything," Dean spat.

"It was harmless," John sighed.

"If I did that to him you'd kick my ass," Dean replied.

"You make Sam cry you get your ass kicked," John replied. "He's smaller that you."

"Totally not fair," Dean said rolling his eyes. "You're not being fair."

"Looks like the two of you will be spending the afternoon in town doing laundry," John said shaking his head. "Collect everything and put it in the car. I'll drop you off. Just don't kill each other while you're there."

Dean shoved at Sam as they walked back into their bedroom to collect all their stuff.

"There was literally no way to get around telling Dad," Sam sighed. "I didn't want you to get in trouble."

"I know, Short Stack," Dean answered picked his clothes up off the floor and shoving them into his duffel bag while Sam pulled his sheets off.

* * *

That night Sam put a bunch of their dad's shaving cream in Dean's hand and tickled his nose, covering his brother's face in the stuff. It was the best he could think of in a short period of time. A decent amount of it ended up in Dean's mouth.

"Trying to kill me isn't a prank!" Dean yelled trying to get the shaving cream out of his mouth.

"I wasn't trying to kill you," Sam yelled back, causing John to enter the room.

"What's happening in here?" John yawned.

"Dean's freaking out about nothing," Sam explained. "Some shaving cream got in his mouth, now he thinks he's going to die."

John sighed and shook his head. "You are the biggest drama queen I've ever met."

"But Sam-" Dean tried.

John held his hand up. "You boys need to knock off the pranking shit. I'm pretty much done with both of you."

"Sam's not playing fair," Dean whined.

"If you can dish it out," John said seriously. "You can take it. If you don't want to take it, leave your brother alone. You've done fair worse stuff to him than he's done to you."

"But you're helping him!" Dean whined. "You're giving him ideas and and helping him set them up."

"I went to the store," John corrected. "What he did with what he asked me to pick up is his business. I want the two of you to knock it off before one of you gets hurt."

Dean rolled his eyes and spit some more of the cream out of his mouth.

"If I did half the shit Sam's done to me, you'd ground me for life," Dean said.

"Watch your tone with me, Boy," John warned. "You're older and know better. Sammy's defending himself. There's a difference. Clean up this mess, both of you."

"Yes, sir," the boys replied in unison.

"And when you're done," John continued. "How about you boys clean the rest of this place? It's getting disgusting; like living with two little pigs."

The two boys sighed as Dean grabbed a t-shirt off the floor and wiped his face.

"And you call me a baby," Sam said under his breath.

"I can hear you," Dean said, he rolled up his t-shirt and whipped Sam in the thigh with it.

"I really don't get why you have to be such a baby when I fight back," Sam said looking at his brother. "You complain over and over that I don't fight back but then when I do, you get all five year old about it."

"I do not," Dean defended.

"You do," Sam countered. "I put shaving cream on you face and you told Dad I was trying to poison you."

"It's toxic," Dean said seriously.

Sam stared at his brother with an extremely serious face, unblinking. "You're an idiot."

"Shut up," Dean scoffed. "Help me pick up this room before Dad comes back in and whoop us."

* * *

They started school in upstate New York and on the second day of school Dean superglued Sam's zipper on his book bag shut so he had to rip it to get it open. Sam sat in the middle of the classroom red faced while his new classmates stared at him. Sam had a hard enough time fitting in without looking like someone who'd never had a backpack before. There was no way he'd ever make friends at this school with a first impression like that. He was going to murder Dean the next time he had the chance.

When he got out to car where his dad was waiting after school he felt like he could scream.

"You're never going to believe what Dean did to me!" Sam growled throwing his torn bag into the car before him.

"I thought I told both of you to knock it off," John sighed as Sam slammed the door shut behind him. John held up Sam's book bag and shook his head.

"Yeah, well, you know Dean's not so great at listening," Sam huffed as John dropped the car into drive and started toward the high school across town to pick up his other son.

"What are you gonna do?" John asked looking sideways at Sam.

"Ask you to make Dean buy me a new book bag," Sam shrugged.

"That's a start," John said reaching over and ruffling Sam's hair. "A real good start."

* * *

Everyone is an expert in something, and Sam Winchester, at eleven years old, was a scholar of his older brother. He knew more about Dean than Dean did. He knew things about his brother that Dean would never admit about himself. He knew that Dean still had a firetruck he got for his fifth birthday in his duffel bag, he knew that Dean somehow got a cupcake and put a candle in it for their mom every year on her birthday, he knew that Dean knew more about Batman than any other human being Sam had ever met, and he knew that Dean was terrified of snakes. Dean carried himself like nothing could phase him, but Sam knew differently. He knew how freaked out Dean got around slimy and crawly things. Sometimes Sam wondered how Dean ever expected to be a hunter like their dad when he was so squeamish, but he also knew he'd end up in a headlock, being tickled until he peed himself, or punched, if he asked.

If Sam knew anything, he knew Dean. So using that to his advantage, he set up his next prank. Sam borrowed a toy snake from his new friend at school and carefully shoved it under Dean's pillow with just the head sticking out. He smirked to himself as he almost skipped out of their bedroom to the kitchen. All he had to do now was wait.

"We're leaving next week," Dean was complaining. "What's the point of doing homework if we're not going to be in town long enough for it to even get a grade."

"Because I said so," John replied, doing his best to shove Dean down into a chair at the kitchen table.

"I don't want to," Dean said trying to squirm from under John's grip.

"I don't want to have this conversation with you everyday, but here we are," John spat back. "Sam always does his homework."

"Sam's a nerd," Dean rolled his eyes. "And a baby."

"And smarter than you," Sam said climbing into the chair next to his brother. "Because I do my homework."

"This is stupid," Dean sighed picking up his pencil and opening his math book.

"Just like-" Sam started.

"Enough, Sam," John warned ruffling Sam's hair. "Just do your homework. I'm gonna finish up the last bit of this hunt."

"Can I help with that?!" Dean asked excitedly turning toward his dad as he walked away.

"When you're done your homework," John called back.

"Geometry isn't going to help me hunt," Dean mumbled.

"Helps you learn how to read track patterns and attack points," John replied. "You can use what you learn in your math class to work out war strategies. Just do what I say, Dean. It's can't be all that hard."

"You have no fuckin' idea," Dean sighed.

* * *

Dean ended up heading to bed first that night, Sam was still in the bathroom brushing his teeth when a loud girlish scream filled the small apartment. Sam heard their father's loud footfalls across the floor as he spit and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Sam walked calmly out of the bathroom and tried not to smile as he walked over to the bedroom door so see the commotion.

"Kill it! Kill it!" Dean squeaked.

John sighed as he pulled the plastic snake from under his pillow. He glanced over at Sam, shaking his head with a hint of a smile before tossing the thing over at the older boy.

"What the hell!" Dean backed out of the way. "Get it away from me!"

"How are you going to hunt monsters if you're afraid of a plastic snake?" Sam giggled.

"Not funny," Dean said seriously.

"Hilarious," Sam replied doing his best Dean impression. "You're just jealous of my genius."

"You're a dick," Dean continued pushing past his dad to his own bed.

"I gotta great role model," Sam smirked.

"Knock it off," John said. "If you can't take it, Dean, don't dish it out. I've told you that a million times. You ruined that kid's book bag. Listening to you scream like a little girl is a good comeback."

"I didn't scream like a girl!" Dean huffed."Why are you always taking his side?"

"Because that was funny," John answered. "Good night boys."

Sam couldn't help but smile as he climbed into bed.

"I'm gonna get back," Dean said turning off the light between their beds.

"I know," Sam shrugged. "But I will forever have that girly scream in my head."

"You're a little bitch," Dean chuckled. "But, that was good though. Scared the shit out of me."

"That was the plan," Sam nodded rolling onto his side to look at Dean who was on his back staring at the ceiling. "Can this be over now?"

"Oh hell no," Dean laughed. "You're not winning. Good night, Sammy."

Dean rolled over to face that way away from Sam. Sam rolled to look up at the ceiling with dread. "Good night Dean."

* * *

It took Dean two days to retaliate, at least Sam figured Dean was trying to retaliate, or he was getting back at their dad for always taking Sam's side. But judging from the way Dean's eyes bugged out of his head when their dad came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel with purple liquid dripping down his face told Sam otherwise.

"Which one of you two idiots did this?" John boomed.

Dean looked to scared to speak, Sam slid in line behind his older brother, a defense he'd always went to in times of trouble.

"Well," John continued. "If I'm keeping track, Dean glued Sam's bag together so Sam but a snake in Dean's bed, so Dean decided to fill the shower head with kool-aid."

"Yeah," Dean said in the smallest voice Sam had ever heard his brother speak in.

"What?" John said stepping closer with his hand to his ear. "Come again?"

"Yes, sir," Dean said slightly louder. "I did."

"And is it funny?" John asked.

"It… it… it…" Dean stuttered. "It woulda...woulda been if it was Sam."

"How about the two of you go running?" John said. "Get dressed and go."

"How far?" Dean asked as Sam ran toward their room to get ready to go.

"Until I think it's funny," John growled.

* * *

Sam wasn't sure if Dean was going to try again or it that was the end of the war, but it seemed like both boys would do anything to get their father to stop glaring at them as they drove across the country to Idaho following something John, once again, wouldn't discuss.

"Maybe we can help," Sam tried. "I'm getting good at researching stuff. You know, maybe, I can look up lore and stuff for you."

"We'll see," John grumbled.

"You'll want to take the next exit if you want to stop for the night," Dean said softly from the passenger's seat. "Doesn't look like there's lodging in the next hundred miles or so."

"I gotta make it to town by tomorrow," John replied. "So I can get the two of you registered for school so you can start Monday."

"An extra day outta school's not gonna hurt anything," Dean tried. "We've missed more than that because of the job before."

"Yeah," John sighed. "And you really shouldn't. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing this right, the way the two of you are always at each other's throats. I don't know."

"I'm sorry," Dean said softly.

"It's not your fault kiddo," John sighed. "I made a choice a long time ago, too late to change it all now."

* * *

When they finally settled in Idaho Sam decided he really liked it there. He made a few friends, and there was even a little girl he liked. By beginning of November, Dean had a girl he liked, Janie -really liked, by the looks of things. Dean seemed to think it was okay to bring this girl into their room all the time. Sam hated it. Who knew what the two of them were doing in there? Dean swore it was homework, but Sam knew Dean's feelings about homework, so he doubted that could be true.

"I don't like her," Sam told his brother one night long after she'd left for the night shortly before Thanksgiving. "I don't like her being in my room."

"Still believe in cooties?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam snapped back.

"What do you think we're doing?" Dean asked seriously. "The doors open. Dad won't let me close it."

"I don't know, kissing," Sam answered. "I don't want kissing happening where I sleep."

"Give it time, little brother," Dean chucked pushing himself off his bed. "Give it time."

As Dean left the room, Sam knew that he had to strike.

He knew that Dean would be caught off guard. It would give him the upper hand in this war. He wasn't going to sit back and let Dean do whatever it was he was doing with that girl in his room.

Sam asked his new friend Levi to go to the mall the next afternoon after school, where he bought all the supplies he'd need for what he knew would be a perfect prank with the money his dad had given him. He snickered as he rummaged through Dean's duffel bag and laid out his plan. It was going to be glorious.

* * *

Dean was shifty all the following morning, and Sam could barely contain his giggling, but he he did his very best not to give himself away.

"What's wrong with you?" John asked over his breakfast bowl.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged.

"Stop squirming," John demanded.

"I can't," Dean mumbled pulling at his jeans. "I'm itchy."

"Are you?" John sighed.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "I think… I mean it has to be the soap from the laundry mat."

"Does it?" John asked. "It _has_ to be."

"Yeah,"' Dean replied moving around in his chair doing his best to get comfortable. "I think I'm having an allergic reaction. That's what happens right? You get all itchy and hive-y?"

"We talked about this," John said seriously. "But maybe we should talk about it again to get it to sink in."

"About what?" Dean asked. "Laundry soap?"

"VD," John replied. Sam nearly spit his oatmeal across the table. This was far better than just putting itching powder in Dean's underwear. It was better than anything he could have ever imagined.

"I don't… I didn't… I haven't…" Dean stammered. "All I've done is kiss her."

"I knew it!" Sam yelled. "In my room!"

"Shut up, Sam," Dean said rolling his eyes. "I don't have an STD. You have to actually, you know." Dean made a crude hand gesture. "And we haven't. You make us keep the door open!"

"Then explain yourself," John said. "Or stop twitching because it's annoying."

"I'm itchy!" Dean yelled.

"Don't talk to me like that," John growled back. "Look, I'm not an idiot, Dean. I know that you and this girl are getting serious, more serious than I really want to see my fifteen year old getting. We talked about this before the two of you started going together."

"We're not doing anything!" Dean swore.

"Then what's going on with you?" John demanded.

"I don't know!" Dean cried. "All I know is I'm itchy! I didn't do anything."

"The last time you boys did laundry was two weeks ago," John said seriously. "It doesn't take two weeks for the body to react to an irritant. It happens nearly immediately."

"I don't know, Dad," Dean replied, desperation spreading across his face. "Janie and I have done nothing but kiss, and every time we do that you seem to sense it and break it up. I don't have a disease. I swear."

"I'm taking you to a clinic to get it figured out," John said, anger growing in his eyes. "Then lie to my face some more."

And at that point Sam just couldn't hold it in anymore, he started laughing, a fine spray of oatmeal covering the small the table they sat around.

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled. "This is too rich."

"Bite me," Dean said rolling his eyes.

"I would," Sam said. "But I don't want to get itching powder in my mouth."

"You little…" Dean reached across the table in an attempt to grab at Sam, but Sam was faster and small and easily got away before Dean to grab him.

"I would have said something before, but you getting lectured is funnier than you being itchy." Sam shrugged.

"What have I ever done to you?" Dean whined, standing up.

"Loads of stuff, Dean," Sam replied. "I could start listing now and not be done until I'm forty!"

"Knock it off, both of you," John said slamming his hand on the table. "I thought this prank shit was over."

"It was until Sam did this," Dean replied.

"You have that girl in my room," Sam spat.

"Doing nothing!" Dean exclaimed. "Sweet Jesus, Sammy. You think I'm pissing on your bed when your not around. I don't need a girl in there to do that. We're doing homework. She's in my math class. Why are you such a little freak!?"

"Don't talk to your brother like that," John sighed.

"You were about to take me to a clinic for an STD I don't have!" Dean yelled. "Why do you always take his side? It's not fair. I don't care that's he's younger. He's being a freak and jerk."

"I have the best to learn from," Sam scoffed.

"Go take a shower," John replied. "I'll take Sam to the laundromat and he'll clean your clothes. I want this prank shit to be over with. I've had enough of the two of you being at each others throats. I've had enough of one of you whining like a girl while the other one laughs. I've had enough of being accused of taking sides by two little children. So this is over. It's over right now!"

John slammed his hand on the table then stood up to leave. He slammed the door of the trailer behind him as he walked out.

"It's not over, Sammy," Dean threatened. "Not even close."


	5. Chapter 5

Dean was acting weird after Thanksgiving, their dad even weirder and this left Sam in a awkward place. John had been drunk for a good portion of a week and Dean refused to make eye contact with either of them for some weird Dean reason, i_and_/i Janie was spending even more time at their place than she was before Thanksgiving. Sam decided it was in his best interest to also do his homework in his room with Dean and his girlfriend to prevent Dean from doing anything too horrible. Sam knew that Janie liked him. She said so a couple times. She was kind of nice, never called him "Sammy" and when Dean was being a jerk, she usually told him to stop.

"Why are you so mean to your brother?" Janie asked. She was sitting cross legged at the foot of Dean's bed with their geometry book between her feet. "He seems like a nice kid. Look at him over there, working so hard on his project. The exact opposite of you."

Sam smirked as he locked eyes with Dean, who was sitting against his headboard, before had a chance to answer, making him mumble a little bit.

"He's… we… it's complicated."

"You both talk about each other like you're all each other has in the whole world," Janie continued. "But it just comes off like you hate each other right now."

"Because we do," Dean answered. "We're in the middle of a war. And it's my move."

"Dean's going to try to kill me because I got Dad to give him a lecture about-"

"I'm talking, Sammy," Dean interrupted. "Right now, I have the upper hand. I'm waiting for the right time to completely ruin everything he has going for him."

"That's horrible," Janie chuckled.

"You'd understand if you had brothers," Dean nodded. "It's a brother thing."

"It sounds like it's a 'how can I make my brother cry' thing," Janie replied.

"That's part of it," Dean smiled, he leaned closer to her.

"Please don't kiss," Sam sighed.

"If you don't want to watch, go in the living room and watch cartoons like a normal person," Dean said smugly. "You're always talking about how you want to be a normal person. Here's your chance."

Janie leaned back, setting her arms behind her. "We should really work on this assignment. I really want to get a solid B in this class. It will look good on college apps. Plus you'll lose your A if we don't do it."

"Dean has an A?" Sam laughed.

"Yeah, I do," Dean said sticking his tongue out. "Imagine that."

"How do you have an A?"

"I'm good at math," Dean sighed. "I told you I was good at math. I help you with your math all the time."

"Yeah, but I'm in 6th grade," Sam replied. "Sixth grade homework shouldn't be hard for a high schooler."

"It's just something you're going to have to wrap your brain around, kiddo," Dean smirked. "Cuz it's true. Now, shut up so I can keep it."

"Does Dad know you have an A?" Sam pressed.

"Yes," Dean sighed. "And so does Bobby, anyone else you need me alert? Call the New York Times or something?"

Sam shrugged and turned back to his project. "I'm kinda surprised it didn't make the six o'clock news."

"That's it, you little bitch," Dean growled pushing himself off his bed and taking three quick steps to Sam's bed. Sam grabbed his homework, squirmed just out of his reach and scrambled out of the room, Dean's footfalls right behind him.

"Dean," Janie called after him. "Leave him alone."

Dean turned around, leaving Sam in the living room, giggling to himself.

* * *

Sam walked on his toes around Dean after that. He was doing his best to try to keep from making Dean angry, because he knew that would only make Dean act faster. He figured it he was nice enough to Dean, his brother might forget that he promised to pull the biggest prank of all time on him. Sam jumped up after dinner and washed dishes before their dad say anything, he kept the room clean, he didn't complain too much when they had to run PT drills in the snow. He did everything he could to keep Dean from having a reason to be upset with him.

The Winchester men all went grocery shopping on a Wednesday night in the middle of December. All three filling a cart as quickly as they could because none of them wanted to be there. Dean had to make a phone call to Janie before eight when John cut of phone privileges, Sam had a science lab to finish up, and John just really hated grocery stores.

Sam took his basket to the produce section and filled it with all his favorites, apples, assorted salad vegetables, oranges. He even grabbed a couple containers of pure fruit juice he knew his dad would scoff at, but would buy for them anyway. If he bought Dean little snack pies, he could buy Sam fruit juice. He met John and Dean back in the soap aisle, Dean with a creepy grin on his face as his dad debated shampoos.

"What sorta crap do you need, Sam?" John asked as Sam poured his produce into the cart.

"Conditioner," Sam answered. "Whatever one you want, I'll get the same thing, but conditioner."

"What do you need that for?" Dean asked.

"It makes your hair softer," Sam explained. "And keeps it from tangling."

"If you had your hair short, that wouldn't be a problem," Dean replied.

"But I'm not you," Sam spat.

"Can you two get along for forty five minutes until we get out of here," John said gruffly. "I'm considering duct taping your head's together until you remember how to be civil. I'm getting apple whatever this is, the ninety-nine cent one. Pick out what you need, then we'll hit the meats and be out of this god forsaken place."

"Yes, sir," the boys replied.

Sam grabbed his conditioner and followed behind the rest of his family. He watched as Dean started to walk weird, grabbing something in his pants. He was clearly hiding something in there, which wasn't too unusual for them, but John did say that he'd buy the boys whatever they wanted, within reason. Sam started to imagine what kind of freakish thing his brother could have shoved down the front of his pants. The longer the thought about it, his mind wandered to the creepy sex talk Dean had had with him when Dean started getting really serious with Janie and all the things Dean told him was required to do things with girls, then immediately decided that whatever Dean shoved down his pants was something Sam didn't want to think about ever again.

When they got back home, Dean scurried off to the bathroom, presumably to hide whatever it was he stole from the store while Sam unpacked the car. John grabbed himself a beer from his fresh six pack and planted himself on the sofa.

"You put it away," John said when Dean emerged from the bathroom. "Sam brought it all in. I would have bought you condoms, by the way."

Dean turned a shade of red Sam didn't think his brother was capable to turning if he wasn't being choked to death, it was damn near close to purple.

"Uh...I… no… I…" Dean stuttered.

"Put away the groceries," John chuckled. "And stop stealing. I really don't want to bail you outta jail."

Dean tripped over the chair, unable to get out of his own way on the way the kitchen.

"Dad's right you know," Sam said seriously, dropping the last of the bags at Dean's feet. "You can go to kid jail for stuff like that."

"Regular jail, Sammy," John called over the back of the couch. "Regular, grown up jail."

"Even worse," Sam nodded.

"You only go to jail if you get caught," Dean winked.

"And if I catch you doing it again," John replied. "I'll punish you like they did the old days. So don't do stupid things like that again."

"Yes, sir," Dean nodded as he put the milk in the door of the fridge.

* * *

Dean was acting more weird than usual since the shopping trip, it was freaking Sam out. His brother was walking with a strut and his "I'm smarter than you" face, which Sam could only take as Dean had finally figured out how his brother was going to get him back for the itching powder. Sam started to check around corners, slowly open doors, and made someone else enter a room before he did. He figured that Dean wouldn't do anything to food, their dad had scared that out of them, but everything else seemed to be a possible prank. Sam searched the bathroom the morning after the shopping trip, but he couldn't find anything weird. Dean must have hidden it better after he put away the groceries, but Sam had a deep gut feeling that whatever Dean stole, he was going to use it against Sam.

* * *

Sam awoke a few mornings later to Dean banging around in the kitchen. He wiped sleep from his eyes as he entered the room, observing his brother's weird happy mood as he flopped down at the kitchen table.

"What are you doing?" Sam yawned.

"Cleaning up," Dean answered. "I can make you a quick egg sandwich if you want before Janie gets here."

"I'd love one," Sam smiled. It has always been Dean's job to keep both of them fed. He wasn't the greatest cook in the world, but Sam i _loved_ /i Dean's cooking. "Has Dad gotten home yet?"

"Not that I know of," Dean answered as he took two eggs out of the fridge. He place the frying pan the boys had found under the sink of a random house they lived in, that Dean had shoved in his duffel years before. "I didn't hear him come in last night. And I've been up since five, he hasn't come in."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Sam asked, watching his brother toss two pieces of toast into the toaster oven.

"Did you really want a five am wake up call if you didn't have to be up?" Dean smirked.

"No," Sam shrugged. "But why are you up?"

Dean brought Sam over his plate and sat across from him. "I'm going out with Janie as soon as she gets here."

"And you think there's a chance she'll be here before eight in the morning on a Saturday?"

"Shut up and eat your sandwich," Dean said rolling his eyes.

"You know," Sam said with a mouth full of food. "Since you and Janie starting hanging out, you've been a lot nicer. I don't know what she's doing you, but tell her to keep doing it."

Dean let out a big belly laugh, louder than anything Sam had really heard Dean laugh before. He didn't understand what was so funny. Sam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at Dean.

"I don't get it."

"Someday, Short Stack," Dean said standing up and ruffling Sam's hair. "Someday you will understand why that is the funniest thing you've ever said to me."

"Is it something gross?" Sam asked.

"Eat your breakfast," Dean called over his shoulder as he walked back to the sink to finish washing up the dishes.

As Sam brought his plate up to Dean to wash, John flew the front door open.

"Hey," he mumbled. "Good morning."

"Hi, Dad," Dean answered. "I was making egg sandwiches for breakfast, do you want one?"

"Nah," John said shaking his head. "Just coffee is there is any."

"Yes, sir," Dean mumbled.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Sam said.

"No," Dean said eyes going wide. "You shouldn't. Not right now."

"Why?" Sam sighed. "You're already dressed and stuff for your date."

"Because," Dean said nodding over at their father.

"Showers aren't loud, Dean," Sam said rolling his eyes and turning toward the bathroom. "I don't feel the need to sing the discography of Led Zeppelin while I'm in there."

"I just think it's a bad idea, Sammy," Dean said as he walked the cup of coffee to the living room.

"You're a freak," Sam answered, squinting his eyes and storming off.

Sam shut the door to the bathroom quietly and turned on the shower. The bathroom was the only place where any of the Winchesters had privacy. He tested the water and walked back across the room to lock the door. It may be a sanctuary, but Dean didn't really understand personal limits and Sam had opened the shower curtain more than once to see his brother going through his elaborate primping routine.

Sam washed his hair thoroughly before applying his conditioner. He liked to let it soak in a little bit while he washed himself. He wasn't sure if it actually did anything or not, but he liked to think it did. As Sam was ready to get out, he rinsed his hair.

As he ran his fingers through his hair, Sam was used to a couple strains coming out while he scrubbed, but when he looked down at his hands there were chunks between his fingers. Sam rinsed his hair furiously. He rubbed and tried to get the conditioner out of his hair as fast as possible, but the more he scrubbed the more hair fell out.

Sam started to hyperventilate. He jumped out of the shower and wrapped himself in his towel.

"DAD!" he screamed unlocking the door. "Dad something's wrong."

"What?" John grumbled, sitting up slightly.

Sam ran over to his dad holding his hair in his hands, crying. "Something's wrong."

"Dean!" John's voice bellowed through the house. "What the fuck did you do to your brother?"

"Nothing," Dean said coming out of his bedroom. "I was in the other room. Oh my God."

"What did you do?" Sam growled. "What did you do to me?"

"I um…" Dean did his best to hold back a smirk. "I'm sorry."

"Can you fix it?" Sam said turning back to his father.

John rubbed his hand across Sam's head. "Not without shaving your head, kiddo."

"No!" Sam sniffed, wiping his eyes. "What did you do to me, Dean?"

Dean mumbled something Sam thought inaudible but made John sit up quickly.

"Is that what you shoved down your pants at the store? Because I swear to God, Dean."

"I didn't think it would do i_that/i_ ," Dean pointed at Sam.

"What exactly did you think it would do, Dean?" John yelled. "Did you not read the directions? What the hell did you think was going to happen?"

"I don't know," Dean shrugged. "It was just supposed to be funny."

"What?" Sam said, eyes wide. "What did you do? What's happening?"

"Dean's a bigger jerk that you thought he was," John said seriously.

"That's not fair," Dean said. "It was just a prank."

"Ruining your brother's life isn't a prank," John replied.

"What did you do!" Sam screeched. "Why is my hair falling out? Is it radiation?"

"I put stuff that girls use to take hair off their legs in the conditioner," Dean mumbled looking at the floor.

"Why?" Sam whined.

"It was supposed to be funny," Dean answered. "I mean, it's kind of funny. If you weren't crying it would be a lot funnier."

"You're a horrible person," Sam said. "Can we fix it, Dad. Please, fix it."

"I gotta shave it, Sam," John replied.

"Otherwise it'll be all patchy," Dean snickered. "That'll make it worse."

"Go to your room," John boomed in the voice that always struck fear in his boys.

"But Janie," Dean whined.

"Room," John said pointing. "You'll be lucky if I let you out of there to eat."

"This sucks," Dean said, kicking the kitchen chair as he turned and walked back into his room.

"I'll fix it, Sammy," John said softly. "It'll grow back. It'll take a while, but it'll grow back."

"I'm never cutting my hair again," Sam sniffed. "Just to stick it to Dean."

"That's a bit extreme," John smiled. "Go put some clothes on and I'll fix your head."

Sam stood up, ready to head back to the bathroom, but John pulled him toward him in a very unfamiliar hug. "Don't let Dean get you down. You'll look fine rocking the bald look."

"I'm going to destroy him." Sam said seriously.

"Go get dress, kiddo," John said releasing him.

"I'm serious, Dad," Sam said looking his father dead in the eyes. "I will destroy Dean."

* * *

_An: Sorry this took so long to get up, GISHWHES plus family visiting from out of state. I hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter will be the last chapter. Sam's retaliation to the nair prank was my reason to start writing this. It's a good one, I think. Thank you very much for reading I appreciate every single one of you. _


	6. Chapter 6

They spent Christmas at Bobby's, things seemed to really cool down between the boys, but Sam was planning something huge.

"Uncle Bobby," Sam said one afternoon as he hung out with Bobby in the garage while Dean was out doing something with their dad. He had opened a drawer and found a bunch of broken cassette tapes. "Can I have these?"

"What for?" Bobby asked as he looked over his shoulder to see what Sam wanted.

"Project," Sam answered too quickly.

"You ain't in school," Bobby smirked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I know, but I got this thing I'm working on, and I think that these would work great."

"This got anything to do with your bald head?" Bobby said. "Cuz your Daddy warned me to keep an eye on the two of you, keep you from killin' each other."

"It doesn't," Sam promised. "I swear. I'm just doing something. It'll be awesome, you'll like it."

"Alright," Bobby nodded. "Don't make me a liar, Sammy."

"I won't Bobby, I promise," Sam nodded. He loaded up the broken cassettes into the front pocket of his sweatshirt and smiled to himself. He had that same evil genius gene that Dean had, and this is going to be the most brilliant upsetting prank that had ever been pulled in the history of pranks.

Sam decided that he had to hit Dean in a place that hurt as much as Sam losing all his hair. Every now and again he would look over at his brother, struggling to read _i The Fellowship of the Ring/i_ and start to think that maybe it would be a good idea to just let this prank business die out, but then he'd go to flip his hair out of his eyes, and remember that there was nothing there to flip and decide that he was going to make his brother suffer as much as he had suffered.

It was going to take time to get all the details right on this one. Dean had called a truce over Christmas break, buying Sam his own Walkman so he wouldn't complain about the music in the car. Sam had felt like a little bit of a jerk buying Dean i_The Lord of the Rings/i_ books that Janie had gotten him to start to read now that they had broken up , but Dean seemed to really like it.

Sam had never seen Dean more upset than when Janie broke up with him. He was like a different person entirely. Dean was never sullen, now his brother was only sullen. Bobby was teaching Dean to drive, so that was slowly cheering in up, but Sam didn't want to prank Dean while he was so upset. So he'd just have to wait for the right time.

* * *

Dean loved nothing more that the shoe box of cassettes under the front seat of the Impala. He had favorite ones, there was this one that had "Hey Jude" on it twice for whatever reason, that had a "D" carved in the corner just in case anyone had any thought that the tape belonged to Dean. It had all the songs that Dean liked to sing horribly off key in the shower. He had an unnatural attachment to music that Sam would never understand. Ninety percent of Dean's music was older that he was, more likely to be the music their dad listened to when he was a freshman in high school than anyone else in Dean's class. Sam knew he had to destroy it.

The first part of Sam's plan was to get the shoe box. It had to be the real shoe box or Dean would see right through it. When their dad was on hunts, Dean took the shoe box with his tapes in it and put it under his bed. Their dad was a fan of finding country or classic rock stations, the tapes only ever played when Dean stuck one in the player. John would always sigh and shake his head looking over at Dean, then turn it up slightly and sing along. Sam didn't understand it, he figured his dad and brother were just weirdos, but he'd grown to accept it; grown to deal with the outdated music that poured out of the Impala's speakers. The hard part was getting the shoe box, Dean would notice if it was missing, and notice if it was a different shoe box. But Sam needed that shoe box to make his prank work.

* * *

It took weeks of planning, after they'd moved on from Bobby's and were living out of a motel in southwestern Wisconsin; after the shapeshifter in Milwaukee (Dean's first kill), a ghost in Alabama, a woman in white out in Cape Cod and before they knew it, it was the end of April, and Sam's birthday was creeping up on them.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Dean asked as he jumped over the back of the couch in a little cottage in Ohio. "Twelve's a big deal."

"No it's not," Sam chuckled. "What did you do for your twelfth birthday."

"I don't even know where we were when I turned twelve," Dean shrugged. "Doesn't mean it can't be awesome for you."

"I don't need anything," Sam answered.

"Shoes?" Dean asked. "The job at the gas station is pulling in some decent cash."

"I don't need anything," Sam repeated. "I'm doing fine."

"Alright," Dean said rubbing his hand over Sam's hair that was starting to grow longer. "Don't say I didn't ask. You don't even want, like, a cake or nothing?"

"I do not want a gas station cake," Sam answered.

"I can make one," Dean defended. "I can get a box of mix at the grocery store and make one."

"I'm good," Sam shrugged. "I'll probably just do some homework."

"I'll at least make you dinner," Dean suggested. "Whatever you want. Order out or whatever. I don't think Dad'll be back yet. From the sounds him and Caleb have gotten ahold of something big in Aurora."

"Of course he did," Sam sighed. "He's always finding i _something huge /i _. Especially when there's something huge going on at home. When was the last time he was around for a big holiday or a birthday?"

"I'm pretty sure he was around for mine this year," Dean mumbled. "And Christmas."

"But he missed Thanksgiving," Sam whined. "And my last birthday, and your fifteenth birthday, and the two Christmases before that."

"So he's not perfect," Dean defended. "It comes with the job."

"That job is stupid," Sam said crossing his arms across his chest. "Bobby's spent more time with us than Dad has."

"Dad's doing important work," Dean replied.

"And we're not important," Sam spat. "We should be most important. He could have lost us in that fire too."

"And that's why he does what he does," Dean huffed. "You'll understand it someday."

"I'll never understand it," Sam said shaking his head. "I never want to do it."

"You're good at it," Dean said turning to face Sam and pulling one foot up on the sofa. "You're awesome at research, and that's the most important part of the job. You're super at remembering urban legends and stuff, you're great with a gun. You'll be one hell of a hunter some day, Sammy."

"I don't want to be a hunter," Sam said pushing himself off the couch. "Ever."

Sam walked over to their room and slammed the door.

And there, under Dean's bed, next to a stash of stolen porn magazines was that shoe box. His time had come.

Sam first went of the the door and checked to make sure Dean wasn't following him. When he heard the faint sounds of baseball coming from the television other room he knew he was safe for a while. He picked up his duffel and found all the tapes he'd been collecting: the broken ones from Bobby's, ones that their dad had broken or the Impala ate, a couple blank ones he's gotten his dad to buy since he'd gotten his own walkman. He put them all on his bed and then grabbed Dean's shoe box and dumped those tapes into a separate pile.

Carefully, he took each of Dean's tapes out of their case and replaced it with one of the broken ones, he made sure that the ribbon was sticking out, but no too much so Dean wouldn't notice right away. Then he pulled his Swiss Army Knife out of his front pocket and took it to one of the blank tapes, doing his best to make the "D" look as much like the one on Dean's tape as possible. He pulled the ribbon out of the blank tape carefully and placed that tape at the top of the pile.

* * *

It turned out that John made it home for Sam's birthday, he wasn't drunk, but he didn't remember it was Sam's birthday either.

"What's with the cake?" John asked dropping his duffel bag on the floor.

"It's the second of May," Dean said eyeing his dad carefully. "So there's cake."

"What's so special about that?" John scoffed looking between his boys. Sam shifted awkward in the chair and dropped his fork.

"May second," Dean said quickly. "Second day of May."

"Oh," John nodded. "Yeah right."He clapped Sam on the back. "Happy birthday, kiddo. How old are you know thirty-five?"

"Twelve," Sam sighed. "I'm twelve."

"Of course you are," John smiled. "You boys ate actual food today, right?"

"Yeah," Dean answered. "I made some lasagna. There's more in the fridge."

John gripped Sam's shoulder tightly before walking over to the refrigerator and helping himself to leftovers.

"He forgot," Sam whispered.

"He was joking around," Dean assured him. "He knew. Come on, Sammy don't be weird about it. He was just kidding."

"What if he wasn't," Sam replied. "What if he cared so little about us that he forgot our birthdays?"

"Don't worry about it, Sam," Dean said seriously. "He's here. Isn't that what you wanted."

Sam shrugged, but he knew it was the only thing he'd ask for, he just wanted to be a family. Have a sober father and a nice dinner and maybe watch movies or something. He smiled a little bit despite himself. This was the closest he was ever going to get to his ideal life.

John and the boys ended up sitting around the TV watching an old movie on cable. It was nice, quite, exactly what Sam wanted out of his birthday.

"Well," Dean yawned. "I think I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Good idea," John nodded. "All of us should. I gotta head back to Aurora in the morning."

"Why?" Sam asked. "If you're home didn't you get it?"

"Nope," John smirked. "Left Caleb to do a little background, while I came home for my boy's birthday."

"Oh," Sam mumbled.

John stood up and ruffled what Sam had for hair. "You really think I'd forget? I meant to be here for dinner, but I did what I could."

"Thanks," Sam smiled weakly.

"No problem, kid," John smiled. "Now go to bed."

"Goodnight, Dad," Sam said standing up. Before John to walk away, Sam wrapped in a tight hug. "Thank you for coming back."

"Happy Birthday, Sammy."

Sam caught Dean staring at him from across the room. His brother looked utterly heartbroken.

* * *

The next morning Dean was in a mood. He woke Sam up by crashing a bunch of stuff while looking for his walkman.

"What are you doing?" Sam whined.

"I want to listen to music," Dean answered, dumping the whole of his duffel bag on the floor: clothes, a ladderless firetruck, and an old alarm clock, among other things came crashing down. "Know where my walkman is?"

"Top drawer of your dresser," Sam sighed. "Can you be quieter?"

"No," Dean mumbled as he walked across the room and ripped the drawer open.

"It's under your socks," Sam said sitting up. "I was sleeping. Why are you being a pain in the ass?"

"Because," Dean answered. He pulled his walkman and headphones out of the drawer and padded back to the bed. He sat down and reached under his bed, pulling out his shoe box.

"Did you do this?" Dean demanded looking up at his brother. He held the tape that Sam had carved the "D" into up in the air.

"Do what?" Sam yawned, not yet putting together the pieces of the puzzle.

"Ruining my music?" Dean growled, throwing the tape across the room at Sam.

"I didn't ruin anything," Sam replied.

"Then who did?" Dean yelled. "The fucking boogie man?"

"Maybe," Sam shrugged. "Since we both know he's real."

"Don't be a punk, Sam," Dean spat. "I know you did this. Why did you ruin my tapes?"

"Because you make all my hair fall out," Sam answered.

"You little shit," Dean screamed. "That was months ago!"

"Revenge is best served cold," Sam said in his most serious voice.

And at that moment, he realized he'd done something horrible. Dean lunged toward him.

"What's wrong with you?" He yelled trying to grab at Sam's legs, but Sam was still smaller and faster than Dean. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

"Calm down," Sam said rolling his eyes. "They're just tapes."

"You little piece of shit," Dean growled. "I'm gonna kill you."

John pushed the door open to witness Sam doing his best to scurry away from an irate Dean. He grabbed the older boy by the waist, stopping him, but Dean wouldn't stop struggling.

"Calm down," John said seriously. When Dean continued to struggle his placed the boy in a hold that dropped him to his knees. "Use your words."

"He ruined my tapes," Dean said, warm tears filling his eyes and slowly falling down his face. "He pulled all the ribbon out. They're ruined. It's all gone. All of it. Every last one of them."

"They're just cassettes," Sam said shaking his head. "Breathe."

"Sammy," John said coldly. He pointed at the discarded shoe box of destroyed tapes "Did you do this?"

Sam nodded, a proud look on his face. "Yeah, I did. Serves him right too."

"They're Mom's," Dean gasped struggling against his father. "They were Mom's and you don't even care, do you?"

Sam's heart sank. Until that moment he believed everything that once belong to their mother had been destroyed, save the few pictures their dad kept in his wallet. No one had ever said anything about it being their mom's music. He always believed it was Dean's.

"I didn't know," Sam mumbled. "I… I just thought they were yours."

"No!" Dean yelled. "They were hers. She kept them in the car to annoy Dad. He never used to like the classics. Mom did. And now they're gone. Let me go so I can kill him."

"Yeah," John said rolling his eyes. "High on my to do list. He's right, they were your Mom's. Why'd you do that, Sam?"

"It was just a prank," Sam whimpered. "Because of the Nair thing. I just wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt me. I thought… I was trying to… I just."

Sam walked over to his duffel and showing his brother his very intact tapes.

"It was just a prank," Sam repeated. "I'm not a big jerk like you are. I wouldn't ruin your stuff."

John let out an audible sigh as Dean started a brand new round of struggle. John tightened his grip.

"Listen, the both of you," John said seriously. "This was the last prank. There is no more. If Dean feels the need to prank Sam back for this one, I swear to God I will unleash heaven and hell on your ass. You boys understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Sam said nodding. "Never again."

"Dean," John said. "Is that understood."

"Yes, sir," Dean mumbled. "I won't do anything to Sam."

"If I let go of you are you going to behave and not move?" John asked. "If you make one step toward your brother I'll tie you to a chair."

"I understand, sir," Dean nodded, and John slowly released his grip.

"I've gotta call Caleb," John said shaking his head. "Tell him I have to babysit my two idiots to make sure they don't kill each other. Hopefully there's someone else in the area that can help him take it down."

When John left the room, Dean sat on the floor and looked over at Sam.

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled. "I didn't know they were Mom's. I swear. I wouldn't have done it if I knew. I would have thought of something else."

Sam slid his bag across the floor. Dean reached in and started to pull the tapes out. He stopped at that one Sam always thought was just Dean claiming his stuff as his.

"The day she died," Dean began. "It was raining, and we had to stay inside. So Mom made mixtapes and she let me help. That's why i_Hey Jude_/i is on here twice. Because she used to sing it to me. It's all her favorites; the songs she wanted all me to learn because she hated the music Dad listened to and she didn't want me to like it."

Sam looked down at the floor unable to make eye contact with Dean.

"That's why there's a 'D' carved into it. Because it was my tape that she made. She wanted to be able to find it in the car and know it was mine. Most of her tapes were mixed tapes off her records so they all looked the same. She wanted to be able to find quick if she had to."

"I didn't know," Sam repeated. "You never told me before."

"Now you do," Dean said as he took the rest of the tapes out.

"No one ever tells me anything about her," Sam continued. "I don't know anything."

"This isn't the best way to get me to open up about what I remember," Dean said rolling his eyes hard.

"I know," Sam mumbled. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to take something away that you really cared about."

"You really can't care that much about hair, Samantha," Dean chuckled in spite of himself.

"Well, I like my hair," Sam smiled. "It's part of my identity. It makes me different from you and Dad."

"It looked stupid," Dean scoffed. "And it's impractical for hunting, unless we need a decoy girl."

"Boys can have long hair too, Dean," Sam rolled his eyes. "And it wasn't even that long. It was normal. Like all the other boys I go to school with. There was nothing wrong with it. It's just not what you like. I don't have to like everything you like, that's stupid."

"Yeah," Dean nodded. He grabbed the shoe box with all of the broken tapes and started to go through them, putting the right tape back in the right case. "Where did you even find all these broken tapes?"

"Bobby's," Sam answered. "He had a drawer full of them. And Dad had a couple. Pretty much everyone has a drawer of broken stuff. It's kinda weird. I only had to buy one pack of blank ones."

"Impressive," Dean nodded. "You're quite the prodigy at pranking, Sammy. I'm amazed at how much you've grown."

"And you're still a jerk," Sam chuckled.

"Next we'll work on your comebacks," Dean smiled.

"Because yours are so great?" Sam scoffed. "Last week, that guy Dad was talking to, do you remember?"

"No," Dean mumbled looking away.

"You were trying to talk about your hunting and they guy asked if you still ordered off the kids' menu. You said 'Yeah, I bet you order off the kid's menu.' I really want you teaching me stuff about comebacks."

"Shut up," Dean said shaking his head. "It's hard on the spot sometimes. We'll learn together."

"You are really the biggest dork of all time," Sam chuckled.

"Takes one to know one, bitch," Dean smiled.

"Jerk," Sam said shaking his head.

John stood in the doorway after getting off the phone with Caleb watching his boys. The way his boys could go from ready to kill each other to laughing always amazed him. He'd been worried when he realized both of his boys had managed to inherit this temperament, that quick to anger ask no questions part of him. But both of his boys had more of their mother in them than either realized: the lazy smile, the ability to forgive and forget. His boys were going to something someday. Something amazing if they ever stopped trying to kill each other.

* * *

_An: Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed this, it's been fun writing and hearing from all of you. _

_If you have an idea for what I should write next feel free to send me an message._


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